


Sunrise

by TheDarkLordMegatron



Series: Zine Pieces [10]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:20:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29884476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkLordMegatron/pseuds/TheDarkLordMegatron
Summary: A small piece for The Scatman Project, a zine gift for Libertus' VAHe was not quite sure what it was that he had been expecting to see upon his return to Insomnia.Many of those who had survived the Darkness speculated about how much of the city had survived its Fall. Early reports from those sent ahead to scout out the area for a safe location to establish a base of operations, stated that whilst many of the larger buildings had long since crumbled, there were still a number standing, the Citadel among them. Standing tall despite the devastation surrounding it.How anything had survived, let alone the symbol of Lucis, he would never know.
Relationships: Crowe Altius & Pelna Khara & Libertus Ostium & Nyx Ulric
Series: Zine Pieces [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1505765
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Sunrise

He was not quite sure what it was that he had been expecting to see upon his return to Insomnia. 

Many of those who had survived the Darkness speculated about how much of the city had survived its Fall. Early reports from those sent ahead to scout out the area for a safe location to establish a base of operations, stated that whilst many of the larger buildings had long since crumbled, there were still a number standing, the Citadel among them. Standing tall despite the devastation surrounding it. 

How anything had survived, let alone the symbol of Lucis, he would never know.

His last memories of the city that he had temporarily come to call ‘home’, was of bright flames illuminating the night sky and of structures collapsing as the Imperial bombardment sought to destroy anything of Lucian heritage. He remembers watching from a distance as the statues that formed the Old Wall had come to life and decimated the area around them as they fought the Empire's 'Weapon’. And somewhere amongst it all, in the middle of the chaos, had been Nyx. His stupidly brave best friend, his brother, who had stayed behind to give both himself and the Princess a chance of escaping. 

For hours he had sat on the outskirts of the city, long after the Princess had left and the sun had risen over the devastation, waiting for any sign of Nyx and when none came, he had gone looking. He had trawled through the rubble, avoiding Imperial patrols as he did so, looked away from the burnt-out husks of homes that had once belonged to innocent people and kept his ears open for any signs of life. Yet the streets that had once been so full of life, remained hauntingly silent. It was only when the Empire began to move more troops into the city, did he abandon his search. Casting one last glance over the smouldering city, committing the image to memory, before he had fled like the coward he was.

Now, as he stands in the ruins of Somnus Plaza, his dagger held in one hand and one of Nyx’s kukris in the other, given to him by the elder Amicitia before their final push towards the Citadel (How the man had gotten hold of it, he would never know and nor did he particularly want to) he can do nothing but watch on in awe as for the first time in a decade, the sun rises over Insomnia. Warm rays of light dispelling the darkness that had consumed their lives for so long, it’s light reflecting off of the Citadel’s windows. 

There is silence as those gathered around him, a small number of people compared to the larger group that had joined their King when they made their final move, watch the sunrise.

For years, the Marshal had reassured them that this day would come. That King Noctis would return and banish the Scourge from their Star once and for all. The people, himself included, had clung onto those words, holding them close to their chests and praying to the Astrals who had ignored them for so long. But as the years passed, their belief in his words had waned until only the Marshal, the King’s retinue and Libertus himself were the only ones who still waited for their King. 

He had done his best, reassuring children who had never seen the sun that the King of Light would come and chase away the Daemons that haunted their dreams, whilst promising their parents that he would not stop fighting until they were free from the darkness. However, as the years passed, his own faith in his words faded and he began to wonder if he would even live long enough to see King Noctis’ return or if he even deserved to be there to witness it. He had, after all, betrayed his fellow Glaives. Had turned his back on Nyx and Pelna when they needed him most, their pain over losing Crowe still raw, and now all of his friends were dead while he alone survived. It was their memories alone, of the promises they had made to one another that one day they would return to Galahd and rebuild everything the Empire had taken from them, that kept him going.

And it is their memories that he clings onto as he stares up at the sky, his eyes burning in the morning light.

Crowe’s crude jokes and joyous laughter. The scrawny, dirty little girl he had seen in their village who had grown into a formidable warrior.

Pelna’s silence and warm smiles. The friend who would comfort you with no questions asked and somehow always knew the right things to say.

Nyx’s cackles and boyish grins. The boy he had grown up with, who he had fought and bled beside. His brother.

Cries of joy erupt from those around him. Soldiers in arms embracing one another, sharing their joy and grief as the realisation settles in that they have won. That finally, after so many long and hard years, their pain and suffering have come to an end. 

His hand tightens around Nyx’s kukri. If he focuses hard enough, stares at the sky long enough, it almost feels as though the three are standing beside him as they did on the morning that their lives had changed forever. Four young Galahdians, orphaned and homeless, standing in front of the Citadel in the middle of Insomnia, places they had only ever seen on television. 

Forcing one foot in front of the other, he takes his first step forward. He swears he can feel Nyx’s arm around his neck, can hear Crowe’s cackling and see Pelna’s lopsided grin as he approaches the steps of the Citadel, the sun shining above him. 

Somewhere inside, his King is dead. Another loss to add to the already horrifically long list, but it is a loss that has prevented so many more and has saved the lives of countless others. They will mourn and they will rebuild and Libertus will be there to see it all. A decade ago he had been a foolish man, unable to see past his own hatred and desire for revenge, and had allowed it to consume him. Now, he stands atop the Citadel’s stairs a changed man, ready to atone for his sins and help create a better world. One in which children never have to go to sleep afraid of the Daemons outside of their windows. He will help people start their lives again and find a new purpose. More importantly, he will live and he will make his friends, his family, proud.

Tilting his head backwards, he smiles at the rose-tinted sky and allows his tears to flow freely, ghostly hands dancing over his arms and laughter filling his ears. 

A sunrise had never looked more beautiful.


End file.
